What Happens Now?
by theRoseintheBlueBox
Summary: It has been 2 years after the Fall and Molly Hooper has finally moved on with her life but Sherlock's unexpected return quickly turns things upside down.
1. Chapter 1: The Night that Changed it All

Molly Hopper reached home from her day "assisting" Sherlock feeling emotionally tired and confused. She was met with the sound of her mewing calico cat Toby who rubbed himself on her legs as a greeting to his owner. Molly grinned at the cat, "Oh hello silly boy. I see you missed me today." She placed her coat on the rack and threw her purse on the table by the door. Molly kicked off her shoes and made her way into the kitchen to feed Toby and to find something to eat for herself when her phone vibrated. Her heart began to race as she thought of whom it might be and was a little disappointed when her fiancé's name Tom flashed on the screen instead of Sherlock.

_Seriously, Molly what did you expect after what happened today you made it perfectly clear to Sherlock that you had moved on. You couldn't really think he would be calling._ Molly gave her herself a stern shake of her head as if trying to clear her mind before she answered the phone.

"Hello", Molly said in her chirpy voice.

"Hey you! What took you so long to answer?" Tom inquired on the other end.

"Oh…Uhm I was in the shower, Molly replied quickly surprised at how easily the lie rolled off her tongue, what's up?"

"Well I thought it's such a nice night that I should take by pretty fiancée on date."

"Oh that sounds like a lovely idea."

"Great! I'll pick you up at 8 o'clock."

"Okay I'll see you then."

Molly quickly glanced up at the time. _Okay its 5 o'clock now which means I have 3 hours to actually shower and get ready for my date…that is plenty of time. _Molly couldn't help but wonder if that was enough time to make her forget about the face of the handsome consulting detective who had been constantly clouding her mind since she learned of his return after "The Fall". The wishful part of her hoped so but the rational part of her knew it was very unlikely.

3 hours later, Molly was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when the doorbell rang. She gave herself one last look in the mirror before heading to the door. She threw it open to find a 6'foot tall, Tom Gibson standing in front of her dressed crisply in a suit and tie.

"Wowzers" said Tom as his eyes raked over her appreciatively.

"You look pretty nice yourself" replied Molly as she smiled politely. "Shall we go?" she said reaching out to loop her arm around his. Neither of them realized that tonight would be the night that changed everything.

When Molly returned home it was only 9:30 and she could tell that Tom was fishing for and invitation into her flat.

"Well I had a lovely evening with you Molly." Tom said as he smiled shyly up at her.

"Yes, it was quite nice. Thanks again." Molly could see the look of desire in Tom's eyes but she was in no mood to deal with his awkward petting, excessive sweating and heavy panting tonight. "I've got an early shift at Bart's tomorrow and I should get some rest. Goodnight Tom." Molly went on her tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Tom, looking disappointed barely had time to mumble a goodbye before she shut the door in his face.

Molly breathed a sigh of relief when she was safely alone inside her apartment. She slipped off her heels, went to her bedroom and threw herself down on her bed. She then began to reflect on the disaster which was her date. Things had started off well enough, Tom was sweet and caring as usual but suddenly every time she looked up at him, she saw the face of Sherlock Holmes. She spent the rest of the night unable to stop herself from comparing the two men. She quickly found herself being completely annoyed at everything that Tom did and said which was why she had ended the date early by making up some excuse about work to get away from him to be alone.

_What the hell is wrong with me?! I have this perfectly nice man who is obviously in love with me and yet all I can do is think about that one who doesn't even know I exist! I think about the way his lips felt when they grazed against my cheek today and imagine what it would be like to gently nibble on his pink perfect lips._

Molly let out a sigh of frustration as she realized where her train of thought was going and exactly how excited the idea of Sherlock lips made her as she felt the slow throb that had started to grow between her thighs.

_Well seeing as how I won't have real thing what is the harm in fantasying? Maybe I'll be able to finally get him out of system once and for all._

Molly shifted on the bed to allow herself to unzip her dress, slide it off and throw it on the floor. She was now lying on the bed in only her bra and underwear as she started to imagine what she would do if Sherlock were there with her. Reaching down, she began to play with the wet spot that had formed on her panties.

_He walked into her room wearing that purple shirt that she loved and pair of form fitting black pants that gave her a very good view of his already hard cock as it strained against his pants. Molly looked at that spot on his pants hungrily before she looked up to see him examining her with smug look and eyes full of passion. She motioned for him to come closer and he moved to stand at the foot of her bed. Molly crawled forward to meet him stood up on her knees and began to unbutton his shirt. She laid gentle kisses on and explored every bit of skin that she exposed with her tongue. With Sherlock's gasps and moans encouraging her, she left a wet trail of from his collarbone to the edge of his pants. When the shirt was completely unbuttoned she looked up at him teasingly. Sherlock looked as though he couldn't stand it any longer, shrugged his shirt to the floor and reached down to unbuckle his pants finally let his straining cock free. Molly bit her lip and the sight of his cock wanting to take it in her mouth but he had other plans. Sherlock pushed her down on the bed pulled her wet underwear to the side as and placed the tip of his cock teasingly at the entrance of her slick pussy. Molly thrust her hips off the bed up to meet him forcing his throbbing member inside of her…_

Molly had worked herself up with all the imaginary foreplay and had only slid two fingers inside of herself as her fantasy Sherlock slipped himself inside of her hot wet center. She skillfully used her other hand to rub on her throbbing sensitive clit and moaned out in ecstasy. Her moans of pleasure started out as whisper but by the time she came she couldn't help but scream out for the person she wanted more that she cared to admit: "Sherlock!" She cried out for him repeatedly completely unaware that the object of her fantasy was standing right outside her bedroom door.


	2. Chapter 2: Sherlock's Night

A/N :: I wasn't sure if I was going to keep the story going or make it a one-shot but I decided what the heck when in Rome! Events of this story loosely follow those of the 'Empty Hearse'.

Also, please excuse any grammatical errors. English was my 2nd least favorite subject…math was my first, in case you were wondering (which you probably weren't). And I attempt a bit of Sherlock humor in this chapter so I hope it amuses you cause it made me chuckle when I wrote it.

That being said Allons-y!

* * *

During his time tracking down and dismantling Moriarty's criminal network Sherlock had been haunted by dreams of the pathologist who had helped save his life. It was for this reason that he decided to invite Molly to work with him on a few cases.

As much as he missed John's company, the idea of spending the day with Molly gave him this weird sensation in his stomach that was also present whenever she was around.

_Rhopalocera. Butterflies. Yes I believe the phrase is that I have butterflies in my stomach. No that's utterly ridiculous and highly unlikely. Considering the acidic conditions within the stomach it is certainly not an environment that is conducive to the survival of any type of arthropod. The more likely explanation for this feeling is gas…yes it must be gas._

Sherlock attempted to rationalize his feelings away while searching his mind palace for something else to think about. Ultimately it kept coming back to the room that held his memories from the day of the "Fall". More specifically he returned to when he, Molly and John Watson were in the lab, searching for clues about the whereabouts of the kidnapped children. It was then that Molly, stammering,-blushing-awkward Molly had managed to do what few others had ever done before, she surprised him.

Sherlock had always been good at reading people. It was as easy for him as breathing but he was not accustomed to was people reading him but his pathologist had done just that. She saw him; she noticed that despite what he said or did Sherlock was not okay. She deduced something about him that his best friend, arguable the one person outside of his family who knew him the best failed to see. The consulting detective had thought he had Molly Hooper all figured out and it turned out he had never been more wrong.

* * *

His day with Molly had been rather amusing up until the point where he noticed the ring.

_Stupid. How could you have not seen it until now? Clearly I was too busy showing off and trying to make her smile, that bright beautiful smile that makes my heart race and my palms sweat. Damnit Sherlock, focus she's talking._

Sherlock tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Molly wrapping up her little rant about her fiancé and his relationship with his family. He started to feel this uncomfortable twisting in the pit of his stomach and struggled not to let his discomfort show. He placed a genuine smile on his face and said, "I hope you'll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it." When he leaned into kiss her on the cheek, he snapped a mental picture of the moment, committing every detail to memory including the way her breathing increased as he moved towards her, the blush that came to her cheeks as he leaned in and the light smell of vanilla on her skin that stayed with him for the rest of the day.

* * *

Sherlock sat at his table, attempting to concentrate on the specimen underneath his microscope but kept being interrupted by the sounds of laughter coming from downstairs. Mrs. Hudson was having her monthly game of bridge with her old friends from school. Normally, Sherlock was able to filter out the sound of the rowdy, gossipy old ladies but after the day he had his typically low level of patience was running on empty. He sighed exasperatedly as he stood up, grabbed his Belstaff and stormed noisily down the stairs. Mrs. Hudson hearing the raucous opened the door and stuck her head out in time to see Sherlock reaching for the front door.

"Oh Sherlock dear, where are you off to?" she asked.

"Contrary to popular belief Mrs. Hudson I am not a child and you are not my mother so I do not need to justify my comings and goings to you!" Sherlock spun on his heel, pulled the door open and slammed it shut behind him.

_I'm going to pay for that tomorrow. I suspect I won't be getting my morning tea, lunch, or dinner. Upside she probably won't speak to me for the day so at least I can turn off the semi-mute filter I typically use when she is talking._

Sherlock smiled to himself as her hailed a cab and gave him the address to one of the places that he liked to go when he needed to think, the place that had quickly become his favorite; Molly Hooper's flat.

He arrived at her door 20 minutes later and fished the spare key she had given him 2 years earlier from his pocket. He entered the flat, took off his shoes and began making his way to the bedroom when he heard a noise coming from its partially shut door that made him pause. He began to approach the door cautiously curious to determine the origin of the sound. Sherlock gazed through the partly opened doorway and saw the shape of his sweet Molly Hooper writhing with her legs open on the bed. He stared at her in awe, completely transfixed by the groans of sheer pleasure that were escaping her perfect little mouth. As he watched her, he could feel himself becoming aroused and decided it would be a good time to leave.

Sherlock turned around to make his silent escape back the way he came when he hears it, his name. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to face the door, unsure of whether he had heard correctly when she says it again, louder this time, "Sherlock." Sherlock was completely stunned and unable to move as his name begins to tumble out of her mouth like a chant growing in volume with each repetition until finally she screams out for him.

By the time Sherlock regained control of his legs, Molly had fallen asleep with a peaceful and satisfied smile on her face. Sherlock uses all of his self-control not to wake her up and ask her to tell him exactly what she imagined him doing that made her scream like that. Instead he heads for the door, slips his shoes back on and heads quietly out the door.

Sherlock went over to Molly's for a quiet place to think and instead he returned to Baker Street with a memory that was going to keep him distracted all night.

* * *

**Thank you to the people who have read it, are following it and have left comments. It is greatly appreciated! Please keep the feedback coming.**


	3. Chapter 3: A Confusing Encounter

A/N :: Oh hello there! Thanks for coming back and for first time readers thanks for tuning in. I hope I rock your socks as I try my hand at a little Sherlock-y deduction magic. With that being said Geronimo!

* * *

Molly was so busy analyzing the biopsy results of her latest autopsied corpse that she didn't hear the sound of the morgue's door opening or notice the tall figure who had entered through it.

"Hello Molly," said a familiar baritone voice that startled her from her reprieve.

Molly shrieked, placed her hand over her frantically beating heart and turned around to give Sherlock a glare. "Sherlock, are you trying to give me heart attack?"

"No. If I was trying to give you heart attack, I would have injected you with potassium chloride. The potassium would affect the electrical conduction of your heart, causing severe cardiac arrhythmias resulting in heart spasms and eventual cardiac arrest. It would certainly be a much more effective way of killing you than attempting to scare you to death.

"Uh-huh, well I highly doubt you came all this way just to talk about the most efficient ways to end my life so what can I do for you?"

"Ah yes. I'm here because I need you to help me with John's stag party. I plan to take him for drinks at all the places that we have found dead corpses but I want us to remain comfortably buzzed without getting ill. Which is where you come in; I need you to figure how to keep us in the sweet spot."

Molly couldn't help feeling a little disappointed but tried not to show it. "Sounds …entertaining. It's going to take me some time to figure out the math," she said as Sherlock sits down on the stool next to her. "You know you don't need to stay. I can text you the numbers when I'm finished."

"No. I want to stay."

Molly rolled her eyes, "Right, of course you'll want to check over my calculations."

"No, I trust you Molly. I'm staying because I like watching you work, it helps me think." He said quietly before closing his eyes with his hands steepled under his chin making it clear that he was no longer interested in talking.

Molly looked at him with surprise before turning to focus on the task at hand.

_Well that's just great. Just when I thought I was getting over him he shows up for the first time in weeks and says something like that. Oh who am I kidding? Considering what I've spent my nights doing since his return, not being around him has done absolutely nothing to alter my feelings for him._

As Molly worked she could feel the signs of warm blush creeping into her cheeks as she recalled the numerous nights she spent alone thinking about all the things she would do to a very naked Sherlock Holmes.

_God Molly now is not the time! It's not a good time to be imagining the gorgeous man sitting next to you naked especially when said man happens to be close enough for you to reach out and run your fingers through his beautiful dark curls. No, that is definitely not a good idea. I doubt that Sherlock would respond too kindly and I know Tom would not be a fan. You remember Tom right? He's your fiancé._

Molly cringed. She had completely forgotten about Tom, the man she had said "yes" to when he asked if she would be willing to spend the rest of her life with him. Since the night of their horrible date, Molly went out of her way to avoid being alone with Tom. It was pretty easy to do since he worked in Oxford and only came up to London on weekends and holidays.

When he does make the trip, Molly makes excuses about having to work. She's made this excuse so often that she actually started to take extra shifts at Bart's in order to feel less guilty about lying. So now she only had to feel guilty for what she did and who she thought about when she came home after work.

Molly silently vowed to stop her solo sextra-curricular activities, to put Sherlock out of her mind and give her heart completely to Tom and be the fiancée he deserved. She let out a sigh as she does the last of the calculations and sneaks a sideways glance at the man she blamed for her relationship woes only to find Sherlock looking at her questioningly.

"I'm sorry did you say something?"

"Yes. How's Tom?"

"Oh. He's good, we're not having a bit of sex but other than that everything is great," Molly rambled nervously.

"That's fairly obvious."

Molly looked at him, the confusion evident on her face, "What's obvious?"

"It's clear that you and Tom aren't having sex because if you were you wouldn't need to spend so much time masturbating."

"H-how…I mean what…w-wh-why would you say that?" Molly cried, flustered as a dark red blush made its way into her cheeks.

"Your nails…" he said as he gestured towards Molly's hands. "…they're manicured. Considering your utter lack of personal style you obviously didn't get them done for the sake of vanity which means they must serve some practical purpose. Since you spend your days with your gloved hands, deep in the body cavities of the decreased it's unlikely that your maintained nails help you do your job with increased efficiency. The only other place where manicured nails would be beneficial to you is in your private life. That being said it's only feasible to assume that having nails with smooth, clean edges sliding into you provides a much more pleasurable experience than sharp, rough nails. Adding to that the fact that you are much to sensible to spend money on something to only use it once, it's safe to assume that you have been using your manicured fingers quite frequently to ensure you got your money's worth."

Molly gaped at him, shocked. She didn't know what she was most surprised by: the fact that Sherlock had used the word 'masturbating' or that he had been able to deduce her near constant solitary sexual endeavours.

"Well we've both been very busy with work we can hardly find the time to have a meal together never mind have sex," she tried to explain.

"I thought that was what engaged couples do, at least if you're using John and Mary as an example one would imagine that you and Tom would be copulating like bunnies."

Molly didn't like the way this conversation was going and wanted to turn things around.

"Oh and you think about Tom and I having sex frequently do you?" she asked teasingly.

An unreadable expression fell on Sherlock's face when he looked at her and said, "No, Molly when I think about you having sex, I don't imagine you doing it with Tom."

Molly was stunned into silence so all she could do was manage a nod when Sherlock asked her if she was finished her calculations.

She still hadn't recovered her voice by the time he thanked her and got up to leave the morgue so she never got the chance to ask him exactly what he meant by that.

* * *

**Thanks again to all of you wonderful people who read it, left comments/questions and are following/favorite the story. I'm very grateful because I ****DO IT FOR THE VIEWS!**** (I don't actually but it certainly helps)**


	4. Chapter 4: Drunken Words

A/N :: For some reason, this chapter was the most stressful to write so I hope that your eyeballs find it pleasing. Also, I worked a little Sherlock and John interaction into the mix. With that being said, strap on your seatbelts and enjoy the ride.

* * *

Sherlock carried two graduated cylinders, each containing 443.7 ml of beer, over to the table at which John Watson had settled.

"Really, Sherlock we can't just drink a pint out of a mug like normal people?" asked John.

"Boring," replied Sherlock handing him his cylinder.

"What the hell," John said preparing to take a swig. "Wait please tell me these are not the same glasses as the ones you use for your experiments."

"I washed them they're fine. See?" he said, taking a gulp, "It's perfectly safe."

John eyed the cylinder wearily before taking a cautious swig. "So, when are the other guys getting here?"

"What other guys?"

"Well Sherlock, typically a stag night consists of the soon-to-be groom going out with all of his male friends and having one final hoorah before getting married."

"John you don't have any friends."

"That is not true. There's Mike Stanford…" John paused struggling to think of another name, "…oh and Greg. Tell me you at least invited Greg."

"Greg?"

"Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"Oh really now John, you can hardly call Graham a friend when you constantly call him by the wrong name."

"Sherlock, Greg is his name you're the one always getting it wrong."

"Hm, I must keep deleting it from my mind palace. I have to get rid of the useless information to make room for the useful stuff."

John shook his head in exasperation, "It's just as well I believe Greg is busy working on a case."

"A murder case?" Sherlock asked excitedly.

"No, something involving bank robbers."

"Boring."

* * *

A few hours, 6 drinks and 2 unapproved shots later, Sherlock started to feel the full effects of the alcohol and was completely pissed. This out of character drunkenness is what led him to believe it would be a brilliant idea to drunkenly text his pathologist.

**I think I've been drugged. Come quickly, if convenient. -SH **

**What! Where are you? –Molly H**

**I'm at the pub with John. –SH**

**What's wrong? –Molly H**

**I feel dizzy, my fingers are a little numb and I can't seem to work the zipper on my penis –SH**

**I mean pants. Stupid autocorrect. -SH**

**Haha! Oh Sherlock you haven't been drugged you're just drunk. –Molly H**

**Oh, that's what that feels like? I don't think I like it. –SH**

**If you think you're feeling bad now just wait until morning. –Molly H**

**How's John doing? –Molly H**

**Currently, he's doing karaoke –SH**

**Really? What's he singing? –Molly H**

**We Found Love by someone called Rihanna. –SH**

**Okay, it's definitely time for you guys to switch to water –Molly J**

**I think you're right. -SH **

**I'm surprised you texted back I expected your fingers would be much too busy making you cum for you to respond. –SH**

**Do you think about me every night? -SH**

**What makes you believe I think about you at all? –Molly H**

**Because I've seen you; I've seen the way you skillfully finger yourself while rubbing on your clit at the same time. I've seen the way your body clenches up when you cum. And I've heard the way you moan and say my name over and over when the pleasure overwhelms you. –SH**

**The sound of my name on your lips left me completely mesmerized and more than a little aroused. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, to stop thinking about you Molly Hopper. –SH**

**It takes all my self-control not to grab you and kiss you every time I see you just to see if your lips taste as delicious as I imagine. I believe that the reality of your perfect lips pressed on mine would be much better than any of my fantasies. –SH**

**Sherlock, I'm engaged. –Molly H**

**Right, Tim. You may be engaged to him Molly, but you can't deny the feelings you have for me. -SH**

* * *

Sherlock woke up the next morning sprawled, on the floor next to his bed in last night's clothes with no memory of how he got there.

_Hm. There's an alarming number of blank spots in my memory of last night. I'm sure things will start to come bac––_

Sherlock's train of thought was interrupted by this sudden need to throw up and a piercing headache.

After he finished brushing his teeth, he stripped and jumped into the shower, hoping the warm water would help clear some of the fog in his mind. While he was soaping, the events of the night slowly came back to him in pieces.

_John. We went out drinking for his stag party. I was monitoring our alcohol consumption and output but something went wrong. I think John snuck in a few unsanctioned beverages into the beer. It's the only logical explanation for this splitting headache and why all the contents of my stomach are now in the toilet. I remember John screeching on stage like a banshee because he thought karaoke would be a good idea. _Sherlock winced as he vividly recalled the sound of John singing. _Turned out to be a terrible idea but overall a rather uneventful night except…I feel like I'm forgetting something._

Sherlock hopped out of the shower and began to get dressed when he saw it lying on the floor next to his discarded pants: his phone. Seeing the phone quickly brought back the memories of his late night conversation with Molly. He grabbed it off the floor, quickly opened up his conversation with her and began scrolling through their messages from the beginning of the previous night.

_Oh. I can't believe I said all of those things. I didn't think it was possible for me to slip up as badly as I did at the morgue yesterday, when I told her I thought about her having sex but this is definitely much worse. I thought I only lost my ability to think rationally in Molly's presence but it would seem that alcohol is also harmful for reasonable thinking. I don't understand why anyone would get addicted to such a brain numbing substance. At least cocaine didn't make me irrationally start sharing my feelings. _

As he was re-reading the last text he sent to her, Sherlock realized that Molly wasn't the only one who couldn't deny her feelings. The more time that went by, the more difficult it became for Sherlock to pretend that he didn't have feelings for Molly Hooper.

_I believe the only way to ensure that I maintain full use of my mental capacities is to avoid any future interactions with Molly…and of course alcohol._

* * *

It was the night of John and Mary's wedding and Sherlock watched the happy couple as they danced to the music in wedded bliss. He scanned the room looking for a familiar face and saw Janine dancing cheerfully with the "comics and sci-fi geek" he'd pointed out to her during his best man speech. Sherlock risked a glance at Molly only to see her smiling happily at Meat Dagger. He watched her longingly for a moment before an indescribable pain in his chest forced him to look away.

Having successfully fulfilled all of his best man duties for the day, Sherlock decided that it would be best for him to leave before his emotions got the best of him. He exited the banquet hall, slipped on his Belstaff and walked off into the night believing that his absence would go unnoticed.

* * *

**You've been here before so you already know the drill. Many thanks to the lovely human beings following the story, both new and old. And also thank you for the words of encouragement and appreciation. See you in chapter 5. **


	5. Chapter 5: Answers to Burning Questions

A/N :: Okay this chapter was much more fun to write than the previous one. Also it's much longer than anything else I've written thus far and has shaped up to be my favorite chapter. I had originally planned for this to be the final chapter full of smutty goodness but it quickly took on a life of its own. But I promise there will be smut, I just really liked the way I ended things and didn't want to ruin my truly delicious teaser of an ending. For now just appreciate the fluff.

That being said please keep your hands and legs inside the roller coaster at all times and enjoy.

* * *

Molly sat on the couch, thinking over the events of the wedding. She wasn't sure what had motivated her to break off her engagement but she was glad she did. She was feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She had just finished having the dreaded "talk" with Tom. She finally admitted the truth and told him that she couldn't marry him because she had feelings for someone else. To Tom's credit, he took the news surprisingly well. He was even nice enough to wish her the best before leaving her alone in her apartment. Letting out a sigh of relief, Molly got up and headed to her bedroom to change out of her bright yellow dress.

_I should have ended things weeks ago. _She thought, as she absently played with her now empty ring finger._ It wasn't fair of me to be with Tom when I'm still sorting through my feelings for Sherlock. Ugh Sherlock, the king of mixed signals. I mean, one minute he's telling me he thinks about me having sex and imagines what it's like to kiss me and the next he's avoiding me like the plague. I don't know what to think. I mean, I'm obviously sexually attracted to him. It's difficult not to be when he has those beautiful blue eyes, soft curls, strong cheekbones and kissable pink lips. _Molly found herself beginning to daydream about caressing Sherlock's face and running her fingers over his lips. She shook her head attempting to remain focused. _I'm never going to be able to move on if I don't address and try to understand my feelings and I can hardly do that if I keep being distracted by thoughts of his handsome face._

Once Molly had finished changing she moved from her room to the kitchen to fill Toby's food dish.

_I know that Sherlock has physical feelings for me as well. That much was clear in the drunken texts he sent me a couple weeks ago. _Molly felt the flush in her cheeks as she recalled the messages. She had spent sso much time reading and re-reading them that she now knew them by heart. _What I don't know is if he's ever going to be able to offer me anything more than just sex. I get the distinct impression that Sherlock does not do relationships and I wouldn't want him to feel like he has to change and be something he's not. Especially since I like him just the way he is. Sherlock has admitted that he is married to his work and I wouldn't want to get in the way of the brilliant things that he does. However, I would be lying if I said I didn't want a relationship that was based on more than just sexual attraction. So I guess the real question is: Can Sherlock offering me more and if not can I accept a sexual relationship knowing it won't lead to anything in the future?_

Molly groaned as she realized that she didn't know the answer to her own question. She decided that she needed to do something to clear her head. So she threw on her coat, slipped on some shoes and headed out the door. She was going to go to Bart's in order to ahead on the stack paperwork that she knew was waiting on her desk. She got into a cab, but instead of giving the driver the address for the hospital, Molly heard herself saying, "221B Baker Street."

* * *

25 minutes later, Molly found herself staring at the door of 221B. She had spent the entire ride over trying to prepare herself for a chat with her consulting detective. Now that she was there Molly was unsure of what to do and was quickly beginning to lose her nerve.

_What the hell was I thinking coming here? If I had just headed to Bart's like I'd been planning to, I wouldn't be in this situation. _She took a deep breath._ Okay Molly, no use thinking about what could have been because you're here now so you might as well make the most of it. Alright so do I ring the bell? The light in his flat is on so I know he's awake but he's never been good with answer the door. I could just text him to let him know I'm outside. Yeah, I think that's the best idea. _As Molly reached into her jacket pocket for her phone, she was startled by a familiar cheery voice coming from behind her. She turned around to see Mrs. Hudson making her way up the sidewalk to the front door.

"Molly, is that you?" asked Mrs. Hudson.

"Yes, hello Mrs. Hudson."

"What are you doing here dear?"

"Oh. Um. I-I saw that Sherlock snuck out of the reception early so I came by to make sure he was alright," said Molly, as she stepped aside to allow Mrs Hudson to unlock the door.

"You are quite thoughtful," said Mrs Hudson as they made their way inside. "Did you enjoy the wedding? I thought it was quite lovely and Mary looked absolutely beautiful, she was practically glowing!"

"Yes it was lovely," Molly said as she smiled politely.

"You and Tom looked happy. The two of you make such a nice couple. Anyways, you head on up dear I'm sure he's wide awake. He keeps such odd hours. I, on the other hand, am off to bed. Goodnight Molly."

"Goodnight Mrs. Hudson," Molly said as she watched her slip into her flat leaving Molly standing alone in the hallway.

Molly stared at the stairs leading to Sherlock's flat, tempted to just slip out the front door and avoid what would mostly likely be a fairly awkward encounter.

_If I leave now I won't get the answer to my question and I basically end up right back where I started. I came here because I need to understand exactly what is going on between us. Right now anything would be better than this state of limbo I've been stuck in since he's come back. Honestly, half the time I want to kiss him and the other half of the time I want to slap him. Which is pretty good considering most people want to slap Sherlock all of the time._ Molly sniggered to herself as she slowly made her way up the stairs.

_Honestly, this whole situation is entirely his fault. If he had just kept his feelings to himself none of this would even be happening. But no, instead he decided that it would be a good idea to tell me he thinks about what my lips taste like._

Molly, finally reaching the door to his flat could feel her annoyance and anger rising. She took a deep breath steeling her nerves to confront him and knocked. A few seconds later, Molly was standing in front of a slightly naked Sherlock Holmes. He was dressed in pajama bottoms and his bare chest was covered only by a light robe tied loosely around his waist.

"Molly," he said the surprise clear on his face.

The sound of Sherlock saying her name and the sight of his naked chest was almost enough to make Molly forget her anger about the fact that she had spent the past few weeks in emotional distress over him…almost but not quite.

Without thinking Molly reached up and slapped him hard with her left hand and said, "That was for the comment at the morgue." "And that," she said as she slapped him once more, "was for the texts."

"I have to say I'm terribly grateful for the lack of a ring," said Sherlock as he rubbed his tender reddening cheek. "I see you and Meat Dagger decided to end things." So what was it then? Were you growing tired of pretending that he isn't painfully boring?" he asked, moving away from the door to sit in his favorite chair.

Molly entered the flat and shut the door behind her. "I'm not here to talk about me," she said trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

"No? Then why are you here? I doubt you came all this way just to slap me."

"No that was just an added bonus. I here because of how you've acting ever since you got back," said Molly, as she stood in front of him. "I think I deserve an explanation for your behavior over the past couple of months."

"I've done quite a lot of things since my return, Molly. Over the past month alone, I stopped an underground terrorist ring, saved John from a fiery death and composed a waltz. Oh and today I caught an attempted murderer and gave a captivating best man speech. So I'm going to need you to be a little more specific about what behavior you're referring to.

Molly glared at him angrily. "Oh I'm sorry, did the two slaps I gave you not make things clear enough?" "Maybe another one will help refresh your memory," she said, raising her hand to hit him.

Her hand never made contact with his cheek because in one fluid motion, Sherlock stood up and grabbed her wrist. Molly nearly lost her balance only to be steadied by Sherlock's free hand on her waist. As a result of the movement, Molly found her face inches from Sherlock's exposed chest. Suddenly, all of her anger was gone, replaced by the need to cover every bit of his bare skin with kisses.

Sherlock lowered her raised arm and let go of her wrist while keeping his other hand planted of her waist. Molly moved back, increasing the small distance between them slightly but not far enough to break his firm grasp on her. She looked up and was surprised to see the look of desire on Sherlock's face.

"Sherlock, what do you want from me?" Molly whispered.

"Right now, I really want to kiss you," Sherlock said, his voice low and husky.

"Why? I mean why now?" she asked, her curiosity overriding her desire.

"Why not now?" he said moving in to close the space between them.

Molly could feel her frustration rising. "That is not an answer, Sherlock! I was giving you a chance to be honest about your feelings but obviously you're not capable of that!" She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him away, breaking out of his hold. She turned around to leave only to be stopped by the grip of his hand around her wrist again.

He pulled her back to face him and let out a deep breath. Molly was unsure of what shocked her the most: the look of vulnerability on Sherlock's face or the words he said next.

"I'm sorry. You do deserve an explanation but I can't give you one because I don't understand how I feel. I know I'm sexually attracted to you. That much is clear from the physiological reactions that occur as result of me thinking about you naked. It's a perfectly natural and healthy response to have but that doesn't explain why my palms get sweaty when you're around or why the idea of you kissing Meat Dagger filled me with this inexplicable anger that made me want to punch him. Also, I have no idea why knowing you're no longer engaged to him makes me feel happy and I don't like not knowing."

Molly looked up at the perplexing man standing in front of her. She didn't know what to say so she didn't say anything. Instead she closed the gap between them and placed her lips firmly on his. She could feel his astonishment but he quickly relaxed and began to kiss her back. The soft kiss quickly grew in intensity as Molly opened her lips, inviting Sherlock to explore with his tongue.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss and smiled down at her. "I was right, you do taste better than I imagined."

Molly didn't have a chance to respond before Sherlock retuned his mouth to hers.

_I can't believe that this happening. I'm making out with Sherlock Holmes! _All coherent thought went out the window as he started undoing the buttons on her jacket. He slipped it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Sherlock slowly moved his focus from her mouth to the areas of skin that were no longer covered by her coat.

While kissing down her neck, Sherlock found the sensitive spot where her neck meets her collarbone causing Molly to gasp in pleasure. He wanted to find out what other sensitive places on her body he could kiss in order to get her to elicit that sound. So, he reached down, pulled her jumper over her head and threw it carelessly across the room. Not wanting to be the only one half naked, Molly moved her hands to untie his robe. As she looked down she couldn't help but notice the bulge that had formed under his pajama bottoms. She looked up to see him smirking at her and blushed.

"See something you like?" he asked smugly.

"I haven't seen enough to make that judgement," she responded teasingly.

"Let's change that." Sherlock pushed his PJ bottoms down to his ankles, quickly followed by his boxers. He kicked both off and nudged them out of the way with his foot leaving him standing in front of her completely naked. Molly stepped back in order to take in the full view of his naked body. She looked him up and down stopping to take in the sight of his hard, impressively sized cock.

"So, what's the verdict?" Sherlock asked huskily.

Molly bit her lip, dragging her eyes away from his remarkable frame; she looked him in the eyes and said "I think I'd rather show you how much I like it. But first I want to watch you touch yourself"

She grinned at the expression of pure shock on his face that her response had elicited. "Considering you've seen me play with myself, I think it's only fair of you to return the favor and let me watch you," she explained matter-of-factly.

He stared at her with his mouth hanging open. Molly smiled as she realized that she was in for, what would most likely be, the longest and most memorable night of her life.

* * *

**Thanks again to everyone. I appreciate every view/comment/follow/favorite. Be sure to tune in for chapter 6 because the fun is just getting started.**


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